


Kiss Me Better

by Cue_The_Facepalming



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types, Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: AU of my own fic, Adult Language, Age Difference (SG is 29 to Harry's 18), Crossover Rare Pair, Drunken Kissing, Implied Sexual Content, LOVE IN AN ELEVATOOOOR, M/M, Seung-gil is a handsy drunk, kink meme response
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 14:05:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17788796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cue_The_Facepalming/pseuds/Cue_The_Facepalming
Summary: A “Seung-gil/Any + Drunken Kissing” Kink Meme Response.Idea inspired by Kink Meme + “Is Seung-gil flirting with me?!” line from Ch 15 or 16 (IDEK) of SCB.Title inspired by Rihanna's “Kiss It Better (Explicit)”Harry's first encounter with Seung-gil Lee had left him with Questions, chief amongst which was  ".....did he just flirt with me?!"An incredibly uncomfortable Gala and a LOT of alcohol later, Harry discovered the truth.Seung-gil Lee had, in fact, been flirting with him.





	Kiss Me Better

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silenceia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silenceia/gifts).



> I know I'm not the first person to write a Kink Meme Response inspired by my OWN GDAMN fic, but still...
> 
> [hides face]
> 
> Harry is of age in this, and you can most definitely assume that the end game for this is NOT Yura x Harry. On that note, this is very, very peripherally related to Sparkling Cherry Blossoms, but only in that that was the fic that birthed this Gift-Fic Plunny. Don't @ me, bruh.
> 
> Also? I kind of love SG x HP in terms of rare pairs, and this was my attempt to convince the lovely Silenceia that this was a Worthy Pairing, indeed. I hope I succeeded.

Harry grimaced, hand gripping the stem of his champagne flute as the woman crowding him from the left—an ISU representative, or was she one of his Coach's contacts from Chanel? He didn't know—brayed in his ear. He took a half-step back, smile fixed on his face. God, even her perfume was smothering, and his three glasses of champagne weren't nearly enough to make him want to put up with this bullshit.

He shot the woman a tight smile, stepping around her to go...somewhere. Maybe to get more champagne. Or grab food. As long as it was away from all that, he didn't care where he went. Ducking around a conveniently tall ficus, green eyes darted up, meeting dark, glassy eyes from across the room.

The increasingly desperate and decreasingly sober eyes of the star of the banquet.

Seung-gil.

It wasn't that he looked any less composed than usual, but there was something about the look in his eyes that made him look almost _hunted_. Harry shot him a tight smile, but kept his distance. Keeping one eye on the glowering gold medalist, he tapped out a quick text.

**Harry [21:45 pm]** : Hey. Congrats.

He didn't even have time to pocket his phone before it was vibrating in his hand.

**Seung-gil [21.45 pm]** : Thx.

**Seung-gil [21:45 pm]** : Follow me.

He blinked down at his phone.

**Harry [21:46 pm]** : We going somewhere?

**Seung-gil [21:46 pm]** : Yes

**Seung-gil [21:46 pm]** : Obviously

Harry sighed, but he didn't argue. He just pocketed his phone, following Seung-gil at a distance as he made his excuses and slipped from the banquet hall. OK. He could do this. He just...had to keep it casual. A slow, steady stride across the banquet hall.

Trying to be sneaky about shit—or, if he was real dumb, running—would just draw attention to the fact he was trying to leave. That would have been fine, had his Coach been anyone other than Viktor “I Smile So You Don't Know I'm A Terrible Person” Nikiforov. No matter what he said, he lived to see Harry suffer, whether that meant putting him through his paces on the ice, or keeping him pinned to his side at a Gala...the subtle grip on his shoulder reminding him that it was part of his job to keep quiet and smile pretty for the people who'd come to meet him.

Harry paused just outside the doors, waiting to see if anyone followed. When nobody—not a worried Sensei, or a frowning Coach, or a tipsy socialite—came shuffling out after him, he turned on his heel, half-jogging down the hall to catch up with an impatient Seung-gil.

They...didn't really talk, but he hadn't expected them to. Seung-gil, for all that he wasn't a talker (at all...ever...) was nonetheless good company. He seemed to radiate a sort of benign aloofness that, on anyone else, would have seemed like arrogance. Seung-gil, however, wore general disinterest like the finest bespoke suit money could buy.

...and fuck but he cleaned up nicely.

Harry tried not to be too aware of the heat of the taller man at his side, or how their fingers brushed—accidentally?—every few seconds as they strode down the abandoned corridor leading from the banquet hall to the nearest elevator. Their dress shoes barely made any noise as they hurried down the hall.

Not surprising, as much as the hotel charged a night; Sensei had had to walk away and take a deep breath when his husband had just...casually handed his black card to the concierge with a careless smile.

...but the carpeting wasn't the point.

Not at all.

The point was that Seung-gil was a _distraction_ , and Harry was easily distracted.

He'd lost count after the fifth time he'd just kind of...stopped talking...mid-sentence, because the older skater had lifted a hand to brush his bangs from his face, or taken a slow, leisurely sip from his champagne flute. It was pitiful, and he was resigned to a lonely, pathetic wank later. Preferably while he still had the suite to himself, because he really wasn't sure he could keep shit quiet. Not as worked up as he was.

His breath hitched in his chest as the other man's fingers brushed his yet again, but more deliberately. And—fuck, but the deep rumbling thing Seung-gil was doing? He needed to keep doing it, because it was undeniably sexy.

Harry peered up at the taller skater through lowered lashes, trying to see if he was just imagining things, or...oh.

_Oh_.

No.

No, _he really wasn't_ imagining things.

Seung-gil wasn't smiling or smirking or...anything, but there was a faint splash of color curving across his sharp cheekbones, and his dark eyes glistened.

...and Harry was gone. So gone. Jesusfuck, but he was weak for this man.

“...u-um..?”

Not exactly coherent, but a good start, considering how words had fled. There was just the heat of Seung-gil's body, and his liquid eyes, and _ohgod he was touching him_.

Harry didn't resist as the other man tugged him close even as he backed him against a wall. They were in the middle of the goddamn hall, and anyone could pop out of an elevator or round a corner and _see_ , but his well of fucks to give had run dry, apparently.

How could he possibly have any to spare when Seung-gil's fingers were tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck, his hooded eyes staring down at him through thick lashes, and his mouth was...

...and his tongue just...

...and Harry was officially done with thinking for now. Thinking was for losers who'd never had the pleasure of Seung-gil's tongue in their mouths. _Sonovashit._

If Seung-gil fucked like he kissed, Harry could spend the rest of his life on his back with no regrets.

N o n e.

A few long, breathless moments—minutes?—later, and the taller man pulled back with another deep, rumbling groan. Harry whimpered, darting forward to catch his mouth again. Seung-gil shot him a hot look, but shook his head, tugging him forward.

“Come.”

He made it all of two steps into the elevator before Seung-gil's mouth was on his again, his fingers curling through his belt loops to tug him closer. Harry groaned, head falling back against the mirrored wall as the hard line of the other man's cock pressed into his hip.

Harry moaned through clenched teeth, hips moving against the older man's, as he tried... _he tried so hard_...not to come in his pants, his leaking cock trapped between his stomach and the waistband of his trousers.

He shuddered, arching his back as Seung-gil bit his way up his neck, tugging at his bottom lip with his teeth before diving in to kiss him, again.

He was only vaguely aware of the slow, upwards tick of the floors—5th floor, 9th floor, 15th...22nd—his eyes flickering open as the elevator slowed to a stop, the soft _ding_ his only warning before the doors slid open.

Harry let out a strangled “ohfuckmejesusnot _now,_ ” elbowing Seung-gil away even as he did his best to look a little less freshly fucked.

Seung-gil grunted, staggering back a step as Harry's elbow caught him in his side. He grimaced, soothing the hurt with his hand, even as he pushed Seung-gil back another step. Not too far back, but enough so whoever stepped onto the elevator wouldn't be able to say for sure what they'd been up to.

...well, they'd still probably _suspect_ , but suspecting wasn't the same thing as knowing.

Harry kept his eyes averted, staring at the stranger's disarmingly floral cardigan as they hesitantly shuffled into the elevator, stepping just close enough to hit the button for their floor, before scurrying to the other side of the tiny, mirrored box.

His face burned.

Seung-gil pressed close, his dark hair tickling across his forehead; Harry let out a shuttering sigh, doing his best to ignore the shuffling of feet from the older woman who had pointedly tucked herself into the opposite corner of the elevator.

Warm, dry lips pressed a kiss behind his ear, and Harry barely bit back a little moan, his fingers clenching tight around Seung-gil's ruffled dress shirt. “...fuck.”

His skin tingled where the older man's lips curled into a smirk against his neck. Jesusfuck, but this lady needed to get off already so he could...ah, _get off_.

25th floor...

...28th...

...30th floor.

Harry bit back a relieved groan as the stranger finally scurried off the elevator. Even before the doors had slit completely shut, Seung-gil's mouth was on his again. Harry clung to him, stumbling as the older skater dragged him back, biting at his neck as he turned away to do...something. The elevator gave a little jerk, but he didn't have brain left to think why, because he was being kissed again.

And kissed...and kissed...

Kissed like it was as essential to life as breathing. Like he was as sweet as honey on the tongue...something to be savored.

His fingers fumbled with the older man's belt, the gentle tinkle of metal fastenings and the slow slide of leather a song of things to come.

.. .. ..

Harry shifted awkwardly, hoping to god he didn't look as bowlegged as he felt. “...do I wanna know why you keep travel lube in your wallet.”

"Are you complaining."

"Are you fucking kidding? You're hot as shit, but not so hot I'd let you fuck me dry."

Seung-gil's is lips tugged up into a grin. Harry flushed.

“Seriously, though...”

Seung-gil shrugged. "Giacometti."

That...actually explained a lot.  Not everything, like when that particular exchange had happened, or why the hell he'd kept it, but. It still explained A Lot.

He grimaced, tugging on his pant leg as he felt a bit more of the...aftermath...slip down his inner thigh. Ohgod, he needed a fucking shower right the fuck now. A tug on his sleeve had Harry glancing up to meet Seung-gil's eyes. The older skater was staring at him expectantly.

“...what.”

Dark hair slid across a beautiful brow as the man jerked his head towards the threshold. Harry blinked, a bit dazed, his eyes flitting from the beautifully calligraphied placard reading _31 st Floor_  and back to Seung-gil. “But I'm...” he pointed vaguely upwards, feeling ridiculous.

Seung-gil rolled his eyes, tugging on his sleeve again. “You need a shower.”

“But...there's a shower in my room.”

Seung-gil's eyes bored into him, his expressive gaze making it clear that Harry was Missing The Point.

...ah. That. 

Harry flushed, but stepped past the open elevator doors and followed.  For a long moment, neither of them talked. Their silence was natural, as if they didn't reek of sex and hadn't just broken half a dozen hotel bi-laws (probably more than that).

He peered up through his lashes, eyes dragging over those sharp cheekbones kissed with the pink of exertion.  He coughed, lightly, smiling when dark eyes met his bright green.  “...so. You're thinking shower sex?”

The older man hummed, but didn't deny it. Harry nodded decisively. “Just making sure we were on the same page.”

That, at least, got another one of those devastatingly sharp grins.

.. .. ..

Dark eyes stared down in him an a silent question, counterpoint to the warm hands loosely gripping his wrists.  There was no demand, just an offer...an offer Harry knew he could refuse with no hard feelings.

"I'm still here, aren't I."

Seung-gil smirked, tugging him inside. And Harry let him.


End file.
